The mother spots her teenager easily
Bobbing in a sea of black
As she meekly takes her seat at the back
In the ocean of parents gathered today.
A quiet stream of tears flow
Somewhere between the laugh lines
And curvy, dimpled chins.
A sense of pride emerges, knowing,
He was once, just a little boy,
She’d held in her hands, helpless, meager
Hungry for love.
She saw in him her spark, and
His eyes reflected her vision.
She was there to hold his hand,
Nurture him, strengthen him, and his conviction
He dwindled, at times, like candles in the wind
Swaying, but keeping steady as she kept him on course
Fighting, wishing, dreaming, living
Waiting, in the ranks, for his moment to shine.
That child, her child, now a grown boy
Is ready to face the world,
He, who had once taken baby steps,
With the help of her steadying hands
And the sound of happy cheer.
She can hear the cheer now
As the hundred boys and girls, toss their hats
Now ready to cross the threshold,
Between carefree lives
And touching stars.
Mihir Kamat 